In This House We Worship Angry Queens (Nesta) and Soft Himbo Warlords (Cassian)

Some people journal. Some do hot yoga. I read A Court of Silver Flames and briefly considered setting my entire life on fire in honour of Nesta Archeron’s rage arc.

Nesta isn’t here to be graceful. She’s here to survive. She’s grief with sharp eyeliner, trauma in heels, and pure fury wrapped in steel. The kind of woman people fear—and secretly want to be.

And Cassian? Soft, battle-scarred, emotionally literate Cassian? He looks at her like she’s made of stardust and broken glass, and he’d thank her for the cuts.

Tattoo it on your ribs. Cross-stitch it. Make it your post-breakdown mantra. Nesta doesn’t get better for anyone. She burns it all down first, then rebuilds—on her terms. Cassian? He just stands by, ready to fight off anyone who tries to stop her.

Cassian doesn’t try to fix her. He doesn’t want her to shrink. He wants every clawed, bitter, brilliant piece of her exactly as she is. That’s not just love—that’s reverence. That’s what we’re manifesting now.

Reader, I transcended.

This isn’t about a broken girl being saved by a hot man with wings. It’s about a woman saving herself—bloody, angry, tired—and the himbo who carries the emotional support sword behind her just in case.

Nesta shows us that rage and survival can be holy. That being hard doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. And Cassian shows us what masculinity looks like when it kneels, not to control, but to honour.

Together? They’re everything. Softness without weakness. Strength without cruelty. The only kind of love story that makes sense anymore. And me? I’m crying into my metaphorical Valkyrie training montage, laying bricks for the shrine I’m building in their name.

Blessed be the angry women. Blessed be the himbos who love them. Blessed be us, honestly.